Out
by charmed7293
Summary: Stung by Jack's betrayal on Easter, Bunnymund can't rein in his temper and punches Jack, driving him away from the Guardians. Jack flees to Antarctica, where Pitch approaches him. In his vulnerable state, Jack can't help but find what Pitch has to say very appealing.
1. Chapter 1

_Bunnymund's fist barely made a sound when it collided with Jack's cheek, but that only made Jack's cry of pain seem louder. The yelp was cut off as he hit the ground with a thud and then there was silence, complete silence. Bunnymund stared at his fist in horror. He couldn't believe he had just done that. Simply being angry was no excuse for such a violent reaction._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tooth's hands shoot up to cover her mouth and North standing as still as a statue beside her. Bunnymund knew Jack wasn't the only one that he had hurt with his actions._

_Jack slowly raised a hand to his face, catching Bunnymund's attention. Focusing fully on Jack, he was just in time to see a tear trail over the hand clasped to his cheek. Jack didn't even seem to notice; he just stared into the distance, eyes glazed over with shock._

_"Jack, I –"_

_That seemed to snap Jack out of it. Blinking rapidly, he didn't even look at Bunnymund as he lurched to his feet and pushed off the ground, launching himself into the sky._

_"Jack, wait!" Tooth called, reaching an arm out._

_Bunnymund's own hoarse cry of, "Jack!" quickly followed._

_Neither had an effect, but Bunnymund wasn't sure if it was because they were unheard . . . or ignored._

Antarctica was cold and barren, snow and loneliness molded into a landscape. Jack felt right at home as he touched down on a shelf of ice.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled his hood up and finally allowed his deadened mind to rouse itself. There was a lot to think about. Things had been going so well; he had connected with North, helped Tooth, and even made steps toward making up with Bunny . . .

But none of that mattered now because he had ruined it with his moment of selfishness. Why did he always mess things up?

Resting his staff in the crook of his arm, he put his hands in his pocket. His fingers bumped against two objects and he was momentarily confused. He didn't have many belongings to carry around. As he ran his fingertips over hard, angled metal and smooth, rounded wood, he realized what they were. He pulled his hands out so he could look at the objects side by side. The golden memory box was heavy and too big in his right palm, but the tiny wooden doll was light and fit easily in his left, even when he made a fist: two completely different things given to him by two completely different people. They didn't belong together and it felt wrong to keep both.

He glanced to the edge of the sheer cliff several meters away, then back to the objects.

He considered them, weighed them in his hands. An unrecognizable emotion rose up within him and he ran toward the precipice, raising his arm, hefting the memory box, preparing to launch it off the side –

He couldn't. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do anything right. His arm dropped heavily, the weight of the memory box causing it to swing by his side. It pulled on his arm, banged against his leg, reminded him of everything he had messed up. He slipped it back into his pocket and out of his sight. Out of sight, out of mind, but if only things were that easy.

He looked at the little doll that personified North's center, just resting there in the middle of his palm. It was supposed to represent a promise, a reassurance that North was going to be there to help him, but now it didn't mean anything.

He was still standing near the edge of the cliff. He barely had to move.

Extending his arm, he turned his hand over and watched as the wooden carving fell down, down, disappearing into the blizzard below. Out of sight.

"I thought this might happen."

That voice – it startled and frightened and angered him and he let that fury build inside him, until he could barely contain it. _Pitch_. Pitch had lured him to his liar and tried to break him down. Pitch had framed him to make the Guardians think he had betrayed them. This was all _Pitch's_ fault.

"They never really believed in you. I was just trying to show you that."

Jack had heard enough. He let his anger burst as he whirled around to face Pitch, raising his staff to attack, ready to send a deadly blast of cold at him, but Pitch's expression made him stop mid-swing. He looked _sad_, genuinely sad. It was evident in his body language, in his drooping shoulders and downcast eyes.

What could Pitch possibly have to be sad about? Things were going marvelously for him; with Sandy defeated and Easter ruined, the Guardians were significantly weakened, not to mention that Jack was no longer among their ranks. They had all played right into Pitch's plan, so what reason did he have to be moping about in Antarctic when he should be elsewhere, gloating over his ensured victory?

Jack sighed, too weary to bother muddling through Pitch's actions. He was tired, tired of fighting and disagreeing and getting hurt, _always_ getting hurt. And he was _so_ very confused. He just wanted it all to stop so he could think things through.

He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision so Pitch was just a black smudge on bright light. As his staff listed downward, he took a breath to steady himself, but it was shuddery and produced a choked sob on the exhale. Unable to keep himself together, his legs collapsed underneath him and he landed heavily on his rear. He drew his legs to his chest, buried his face in his knees, and began to sob, powerless to stop and not even caring if Pitch saw him like this.

Obviously, he would have preferred not to break down in front of his enemy – but was Pitch really his enemy? The Guardians had made it clear they didn't want him around and, right now, he didn't want to be around them either. Did that mean he was a neutral party again?

A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him out of his sobbing. It was warm and comfortable – calming even – and he didn't even care that it belonged to Pitch. He lifted his head up slightly so he could wipe at his face with his sleeve, wincing as his arm pressed against the bruise on his left cheek. With his eyes now cleared, Jack could see Pitch kneeling next to him in the snow, concern on his face. It was a bit unnerving, actually. The hand tightened imperceptibly and the warmth intensified.

"Are you okay?"

He felt like a fresh bout of tears was going to begin. A few did slip down his cheeks, but he managed to hold most of them off. He turned his face toward Pitch, blinking away the trapped tears. Pitch gave him a small smile, one that wasn't menacing or taunting in the slightest. It compelled him to answer.

"I'm fine." Jack didn't actually know how he felt; it certainly was not "fine," but what else was he supposed to say?

Pitch opened his mouth as if to respond, but hesitated as his eyes fixed on a point below Jack's left eye. Before Jack could react, Pitch's hand shot forward and pushed the hood back, revealing his face. Fingers brushed over the bruise and Jack flinched, crawling backward on the ground, away from Pitch. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at Pitch, who was also now standing, hands opened and raised to show he meant no harm and a shadow of anger on his face. Jack knew that anger wasn't directed at him, but it still made him afraid.

"Who was it?" Pitch asked.

Jack simply shook his head and pulled his hood back up. He couldn't face Pitch with it down.

Pitch lowered his hands to his sides and clenched them into fists, making Jack eye them nervously. He seemed to notice, however, and relaxed.

"I didn't know something like _this_ would happen. I didn't intend for it, either."

"Well, then what _did_ you want to happen." Jack's tone was caustic, even though he had heard the sincerity in Pitch's.

"Exactly what I said before. I just wanted to show you that the Guardians never cared."

"And you do?"

"More than them."

Jack grit his teeth. "You're the one who set it up to look like I betrayed them! If you hadn't –"

"It was for your own good! I had to show you what the Guardians were really like. From the look of things, they didn't even let you explain. I underestimated how little they cared, how little they understood."

Caught up in his ranting and gesturing, Pitch had taken a couple steps closer, brining Jack to angle his staff across his body. It was a defensive, insecure action as much as it was an offensive stance. Pitch stopped advancing and dropped his arms. His expression was unfathomable, but Jack was just grateful he kept his distance.

"I bet you think you understand," Jack said.

"You think I don't? You're not the only one who has been alone, not believed in for centuries. I know _exactly_ how you feel, Jack. I know how it feels to spend countless hours questioning your own existence."

Jack blinked. Was that really how it was for Pitch? He knew as much about the Boogeyman as he did about why the Man in the Moon put him here. In other words, nothing. Pitch must have noticed the hesitation because he continued talking.

"To spend such time longing for a companion. For a _family_." At the pointed look he got, Jack realized that referred directly to him. He simply blinked in response, too stunned to react properly. "I thought no one else could possibly understand, but now I see I was wrong. I know you understand, Jack."

"I do," Jack responded without even thinking. He didn't even have to because he knew it was true. This time, when Pitch moved closer, Jack allowed it. He lowered his staff, opening himself up.

"I meant what I said when you visited my home. I'm not going to hurt you. Not only do I not want to, but I have no reason to. You're a neutral party."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"But you don't have to be. You could join me."

Jack startled at those words. Why would Pitch think he would want that? After everything he had done, after kidnapping Tooth's fairies and killing Sandy?

"Of course, it's all up to you. If you decide not to, then I'll leave you be."

That caused Jack to panic. Now that he had spent time with other beings and spirits that could actually see him, he was sure he wouldn't be able to stand going back to being alone again.

"But if you do – oh, it would be wonderful, Jack. Together, we could make the children believe! In us! Isn't that all we ever really wanted?"

It was. It had been for centuries, ever since that young boy ran through him in the village, but . . .

"Do you really think we could do that?"

"I _know_ we could do it, Jack. I image there's very little we couldn't accomplish together. Gaining the belief of children all over the world would be simple."

Jack considered the offer. Pitch was giving him a choice, something the Guardians and the Man in the Moon hadn't. And it was an easy choice, at that: be alone or be believed in. The Guardians hadn't seemed interested in helping him gain believers, but Pitch – who understood what it felt like to be unseen, to be walked through by a child, to be ignored by the moon – was. If children believed in him, Jack would finally have a purpose. He wouldn't need his memories, wouldn't need the Man in the Moon to tell him why he was there. He would have created his own purpose.

"What do you say, Jack?"

He looked up. Pitch was smiling eagerly at him, a hand outstretched to shake. Jack didn't hesitate.

"I'm in," he said as he grasped Pitch's hand. They shook. Pitch's smile widened with approval, but it was still genuine. Jack didn't feel any sort of unease and found it easy to smile back.

Letting go of his hand, Pitch swept behind him to put an arm around his shoulders. The other arm reached up and pushed his hood back. This time, Jack allowed it. He looked up to meet Pitch's eyes.

"How would you like to pay a visit to the North Pole with me?"

At Jack's assured nod, black sand and shadows swirled up around them, whisking them away.

* * *

Not much to say, except I can't wait to post the second chapter, which will probably be in a couple days.

I do want to mention is that I don't necessarily think Jack would join Pitch even if this did happen. Writing this version of the Antarctica scene was actually very difficult because Jack just _didn't_ want to join Pitch. It took a while to figure out what Pitch would have to say to bring Jack around. Jack's thoughts are also a bit skewed and his feelings toward the Guardians are not really my own. He's a bit of a unreliable narrator because of what has happened and Pitch manipulating him into joining him doesn't really help with that.


	2. Chapter 2

_Bunnymund sighed heavily. Weighed down by guilt, he sank to the ground, still in the same spot where he had punched Jack. He hadn't even given the kid a chance to explain himself._

_He looked over at the other remaining Guardians. Tooth's hand was still raised from reaching out to Jack and North was looking at him, leaning heavily on his swords._

_"I'm sorry," Bunnymund said._

_Tooth turned in his direction and flitted closer, hands on her hips. "Don't say sorry to us! Jack's the one who you should apologize to."_

_Bunnymund didn't know what he could say to that. Everything seemed to be catching up to him: his actions against Jack, being walked through, losing Easter. He went back to staring at the ground, unable stand looking at Tooth and North._

_"I know. I just . . ." he trailed off, not sure how to continue._

_The hum of Tooth's wings was suddenly right next to his ear. "No, _I'm_ sorry, Bunny," she said, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Fighting amongst each other is the last thing we should do right now."_

_"Ha! Well, it's a bit too late for that, innit? I already went and screwed that up!"_

_Tooth's hand slipped from his shoulder as she moved back. "Sitting around and feeling guilty isn't going to help anyone. Not you. Not us. Not the children and certainly not Jack," she said in a hard tone._

_Bunnymund looked up, startled. With her hands on her hips and that stern expression on her face, Tooth reminded him more of the Warrior Queen of centuries ago than the quirky, lighthearted Tooth Fairy of more recent times._

_"And moping around isn't going to help either. But you know what will?" she continued._

_"There is nothing," North said. "Easter was last hope. What can we do?"_

_Bunnymund slowly nodded his head in agreement. "With Sandy gone and now . . . Jack . . ."_

_"I can't _believe_ you two!" Tooth cut him off, but immediately fell silent._

_Bunnymund expected a lecture to follow her admonishment, so he was confused until her word choice caught up with him. Tooth's eyes were wide in horror, but he found himself chuckling. That definitely appealed to the darker side of his humor._

_After a beat of staring at him, North and Tooth joined in. They were all a bit hysterical and strung out on nerves, so North's normal guffaw was subdued and Tooth hid her laugh behind her fingers, but it helped relieve some of the tension._

_"Okay, maybe that wasn't the best choice of words," Tooth said, once she had calmed down, "but there are children who _do_ believe! We just need to find them."_

_"Is too late, Toothie."_

_"North, when my fairies were stolen you told me there was no such thing as too late! We can't just not try. We owe the children that much."_

_Bunnymund couldn't help but think that they hadn't been doing the children much good lately. At the same time, Tooth was right. If he was going to go – and he was sure that was the case – he wanted it to be while helping the children._

_"Tooth is right!" North said, some of his old energy returning. "When we took oath to become Guardian, we promised to protect children with our lives."_

_"Guys, I'm all for this, but there's just one problem. There aren't many kids left who believe anymore," Bunnymund pointed out. "I know that doesn't mean we won't protect them, but how exactly can we do that if we don't have any believers?"_

_"We get believers back! Globe on sleigh will tell us where we need to go."_

_"You mean visiting them?" Tooth asked nervously, clearly still not used to the idea._

_"Is best way to get belief."_

_"North is right. We should get going." Bunnymund rose to his feet. Something felt off; something about his perception was strange. He was shorter, he realized. Not by much, but definitely more so than when he sat down. "The sooner the better."_

The black sand cleared from his vision and Jack found himself on top of the giant globe in North's workshop. Most of the yeti were still hard at work, but there was a small group gathered in front of the console, chattering worriedly amongst themselves and staring up at them with apprehension.

Pitch stepped away from Jack, opening his arms and gesturing around the workshop. "You're all free to go! We won't be needing any Christmas toys this year, thank you."

Jack looked around while Pitch talked, trying to discern what was different and wrong about the workshop. Nothing seemed out of place, until the lights on the globe caught his attention. They were unsteady, flickering . . . _going out_.

"Nor ever again." Pitch looked back at him as he said those words, smirking as if they shared an inside joke. It made Jack feel like he belonged, so he smiled back and took a few steps forward toward the edge of the globe, toward Pitch.

"It's exactly as I planned, Jack! Just a couple of nights with teeth left under pillows and no good dreams and the children were already doubting their beloved Guardians. Easter absolutely destroyed them!" He sounded positively gleeful and Jack found himself getting caught up in it.

"And now there are only six left," Pitch mocked, "six _precious_ children who still believe in the Guardians with all their hear–" He paused, looking down as if just realizing he was standing right next to one of the last lights. "Make that five."

_"There's a light not far from here, near Manchester. And it's the only one on this side of the Atlantic Ocean," Tooth said, shouting a bit to be heard over the rushing wind and snorting reindeer._

_Bunnymund supposed it was a good thing he was still tall enough to see the British Isles on the northern curve of the globe. North definitely seemed taller than he normally did, though, and that was troubling._

_"Well, then let's hurry up and get there!" he shouted._

_Beside him, North tightened his grip on the reins, attempting to steady the rocking sleigh. There was much more turbulence than normal, and Bunnymund suspected it had more to do with the lack of belief than poor flying conditions._

_"We are almost there," North said, though his grim look wasn't so reassuring._

_Bunnymund looked back at the globe to estimate their position relative to the light, but it wasn't there anymore._

_"The light! It's gone out!" he cried._

_"Oh, no," Tooth gasped, crowding closer to see for herself. "All the other lights are in the United States. We're so far away . . ."_

_"I have enough magic left for one use of snow globe," North said, pulling one out from inside his coat._

_Tooth spun the globe so the Americas were at the front. "There's a group of lights in the South. Tennessee is our best bet."_

As Pitch danced across the Atlantic Ocean, Jack couldn't help but laugh. From their previous encounters, he had gathered that Pitch was a pretty dramatic and expressive guy, but his theatrics were much more entertaining up close. Jack could tell Pitch was feeding off his energy, putting on more of show for his sake.

"Four!" Pitch proclaimed proudly as his last step placed his foot directly on a light.

_The snow globe spit them out right in the middle of the cluster of four lights. The easternmost one immediately went out, so North pulled the sleigh to the northwest, where two lights were relatively close together._

"Three!"

_"Tooth, what's going on! I can't see it anymore!" Bunnymund could hear the panic in his suddenly higher voice._

_"One of the lights we're headed towards just went out, but the other one – Bunny!" Tooth exclaimed as she looked over at him. "You're getting smaller . . ."_

_"Yeah, I noticed, but we just need to get to the lights. Everything will be fine once we get to the children." He wasn't quite so sure he believed that, but he knew it made Tooth – as well as himself – feel slightly better._

"Two!" Pitch's jump brought both feet down on lights at the same time. "And one."

Pitch turned to stare down at the last light and Jack could clearly see the eagerness on his face, the promise of triumph in his eyes.

_"There's only one left."_

_Tooth's whisper was full of despair. Bunnymund touched her knee, the highest point he could reach._

_Their solemn moment was disrupted when the sleigh dropped in the sky. North shouted words of encouragement to the reindeer and their plummet evened out, but there seemed to be a downward tilt to their flight._

_"We will make it," North said. "No such thing as too late."_

_Bunnymund would have felt more reassured if he hadn't heard the resignation in North's tone._

The pause Pitch took to savor the moment gave Jack just enough time to ask the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since Pitch had started.

"Wait! Before you put out the last one – um, we want believers, right? So, I mean, how-how exactly is this going to help us?"

"It'll be much easier to get the children to believe in us if we extinguish their belief in the Guardians first. And, this way, we won't have to worry about them coming after us."

Jack nodded; that made sense.

"But, Jack, why don't _you_ take the last one? It's your victory just as much as it is mine." Pitch swept his hand in the direction of the light, offering it to him. His expression was no less eager than before.

Jack blinked and looked down at the weak, wavering light, sputtering like a candle at the end of its wick. It wouldn't take much to put it out. Still . . .

He wasn't sure how he felt about the Guardians. It wasn't entirely friendly, but that didn't mean he wanted to cause their demise, which seemed to be what would happen if he put that last light out.

_The sleigh kept dropping, but was somehow still moving toward that last light._

"It's _our_ victory, Jack."

_Our_. Not just his; not just Pitch's. Both of theirs. He belonged to something. Really, truly belonged to something and Pitch wasn't saying he owed him anything or needed to prove himself. He was even offering what was, essentially, the killing blow. By all rights, it was Pitch's. He had done all the work, he had suffered longer, but here he was, telling Jack to take it.

_"Is it still there?"_

_"Yes, it's still here," Tooth said calmly. She placed her hands on the globe and Bunnymund could see the light illuminate her palms as she cupped them around it. "Still here."_

_And the sleigh was still losing height._

There was really nothing Jack could do to help the Guardians at this point. Even if he didn't put the light out, Pitch would. And then he would probably abandon Jack for refusing to put it out.

Jack couldn't allow that to happen. He didn't have anyone to go to besides Pitch and he couldn't stand being alone again.

_"It's"_

He took a step forward

_"still"_

raised his staff

_"here."_

and slammed it down on the light.

**out**

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Aaaaaand that's it.

I put a poll on my page about some BlackIce fics, so it would be a big help if you checked that out and voted. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think!

Edit: To the Guest who simply reviewed "MORE NOW," I'm sorry but no, especially not after you demanded in such a manner. The fic is marked as complete and I even stated above that that's all there is. I'm clearly not planning on writing more and you shouldn't demand more of something you're getting for free.


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